


Not the Same

by Kalypso



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-16
Updated: 2007-09-16
Packaged: 2017-12-17 16:58:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/869854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalypso/pseuds/Kalypso
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blake's clones learn their first lesson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not the Same

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for the Freedom City Birthday Party of 2007, when the theme was clones, robots and androids.

I open my eyes. Whiteness above me. I sit up, swing my legs off a couch on to the floor and stand up; whiteness around me, walls, but now I see they are tinted with blue, a faint glow. A grey figure stands before me, a woman. I know all these things - colours, couch, walls, woman - but I haven't seen them before. They are the same, but not the same, as images in my mind.

"I am Clonemaster Fen," says the woman.  
"Who am I?"  
"You are Roj Blake."  
I don't know what this is, but as I consider it I hear a sound behind me. I turn to see another - a man - rising from a couch like the one on which I woke. He is dressed in brown and green.  
"I am Clonemaster Fen," says the woman, again.  
"Who am I?" he asks.  
"You are Roj Blake."  
I look down at myself; my clothes appear the same as his. I look up, and part of the wall changes colour, becomes a silvery, reflecting surface - a mirror. I look from my face in the mirror to his, and see that we are the same, but not the same. He is looking from me to the mirror, too, and both of us turn to Clonemaster Fen, to ask her.  
"All life is linked," she says, lacing her fingers, "but you two are linked more closely than most. You are clones."  
I remember this word: a genetic copy. "So... is he my clone?"  
"...Or is he mine?"  
"Neither. You are both copies of a womb-born man called Roj Blake."  
"Where's he?"  
"He is not here, and does not know you exist. You have been created at the order of a woman named Servalan."  
"She admires Roj Blake?" I ask.  
Her mouth widens; a smile.  
"No. She wishes to use you to stage a deception."  
"Isn't deception a bad thing?" he asks.  
"It can be right if it is to save life. She needs to recover a weapon which could kill many people, and she believes that only Roj Blake can do this safely."  
"Why doesn't she ask him, then?"  
"He is her enemy, so he would use the weapon against her. You will not use it. We agreed to create you to save lives, and that is the reason for your existence."  
"How are we..." I begin, but he interrupts:  
"What will we do when we've helped this woman? Are we free to live our own lives?"  
Clonemaster Fen looks away, and presses a button. "She has not told me her plans. But remember this: all life must have reverence, including yours. If you observe the Rule of Life, I hope all will be well."  
The wall parts; another woman, dressed in white, enters, and bows to Clonemaster Fen. "Master."  
"It is time for them to learn about Blake. Do you have the information chip?"  
The new woman holds something up, and Clonemaster Fen gestures towards the couches.  
"Lie down again, please. You must learn."  
She touches a button at the end of couch where I lay, and a piece of machinery rises up.  
I hesitate. "What's that?"  
"A device to feed information into your brain. You need not be afraid; it has already been used to instil your language skills. This will be quicker."  
He lies down first, and a similar machine is lowered over his head; I follow, and feel cool pads touch my forehead. For a moment, there is darkness.

And then, a rush. Images, noises, colours, faces, voices, words crowd into my mind, far more than anything I've yet seen. It takes a while to follow what's going on, but soon I fix on something familiar: a face. His face, my face, but not the same as ours: Roj Blake's face. It's different from ours, but as I watch him, talking, laughing, grabbing people by the arm, I begin to see it's different from all the others, too. There's something in this face that seems more... alive... than anyone around him. But as I watch I see that he creates disorder. He has the ability to upturn lives, and to destroy them. I see the wreckage left in his wake. His life threatens others, and I'm relieved to see the danger averted when he's captured by a man in black, streaked with blood.  
Then he is brought to justice. I hear the list of his crimes, and watch him confess, admit his errors, call on everyone to learn from his example. He's led away to begin a new life. Something about him is not the same; his face seems more like the Roj Blake I've met, and seen in the mirror. Calmer, less animated, no longer standing out from those around him. Perhaps he will be content now. He seems to stare into my eyes for a moment, without knowing what he sees, and it's like my own reflection.  
But it's not the end. He's back in court again, and I'm not really listening to the words this time, I'm concentrating on his face: yes, it seems more like it was in the earlier images, though not quite... There are a few more scenes; he's back to his bad old ways, the man in black is chasing him again, one eye covered now by a patch, the rest of his face contorted. It's sad that the whole story seems have begun again. But what a puzzling man... why does he seem so much more vivid when surrounded by death and destruction? Has no one told him about reverence for life?

The images end in blackness, and then I feel the machine being lifted away from my head. Clonemaster Fen is standing in front of me again.  
"You have begun to learn," she says. "There will be more later, but now they want to see you."  
"What are we to do?"  
"Just show yourself to them, so that they can see how like Blake you are. But only one, to start with; Servalan has requested that."  
"I'll go," he says, and at the same moment I say "I'll go."  
He looks at me and smiles, and I feel my mouth widening in response. For a moment, he looks a little like that other Roj Blake. Do I?  
"You go," I say. "Maybe I'll learn from what you do." 

I sit waiting, while Clonemaster Fen gives me more instructions; how to address these people who have ordered my existence, not to speak until spoken to, but to answer all questions directly. "I will go first," she says. "They will expect some ceremony, so you will hear music. Do not follow me until I give the signal."  
There is a strange sound, and she starts. "Wait - what was that? They cannot..." She hurries away, and music begins, just as she said, but as it does I remember where I've heard that sound before, repeatedly: when Blake and the other man chased each other through those images I've absorbed.

When the time comes, the wall parts, and I walk out, look down, and see them: a man in black with an eyepatch, not the same, but the same, and Roj Blake lying dead at his feet. 

I learn.


End file.
